The Evitable
by LolliAdverbs
Summary: Fifteen years after the Dominion War and Garak's departure, Deep Space Nine becomes the hearth of conflict yet again. Will Garak and Dr. Bashir be able to save the Federation from another war with Cardassia?
1. Chapter 1

The fight was inevitable. Anyone with half a brain and a general stereotyped view of Cardassia could see it coming.

Who the fight was between didn't matter. A nameless Cardassian soldier who was once a glinn now made an ensign in the Federation beat a young human science officer who outranked him. It was bound to happen, and frankly, Julian was surprised it didn't happen sooner.

Julian treated the victim as best he could, trying to remember a time when he himself was only thirty and mouthing off because he thought he was entitled to it. It was a long time ago, for sure. He was relatively certain, however, that had the other person been a particularly burly Cardassian, he would have held his tongue no matter how many more pips he had on his collar. It didn't take genetic enhancements to use basic common sense. This was something he made sure the young Lieutenant understood. Instead, the young officer retorted, "So? He is apart of the Federation now, so he has to play by our rules."

It was difficult integrating the Cardassians into the Federation, especially so soon after Bajor's admission. Surely, the recently healed science officer said, fifteen years would have been enough time. But Julian was older now, less naïve, and definitely old enough to know that fifteen years was not enough time to integrate two such diametrically opposed societies with a relationship mired in a particularly sordid history. He wondered at which point he had traded his idealism for a healthy dose of cynicism, but dismissed the thought.

And if he dwelled on it enough, he knew exactly where he had learned this sort of thinking from.

"Excuse me, Doctor." It was a familiar sort of voice that drew Julian from his thoughts. "But I was wondering if I could take some of your time."

Julian turned, unable to stop a grin from stretching across his face. "Mr. Garak, I've been expecting you."

"It's Ambassadorial Liason Garak. Plain, simple Ambassadorial Liason Garak," the Cardassian smiled politely, but it did not last long.

"It's been a long time."

"Too long," Garak agreed.

"What brings you here to the infirmary? I thought you only just arrived."

"The fight." Garak didn't elaborate, but Julian knew what he was talking about.

"Well, Lieutenant Harper is alive," Julian said, leaning back in his chair, "with several new false teeth. Unfortunately, he's determined to press some sort of charges."

"Indeed." Garak eyed the chair across from Julian's desk, and waited for Julian to nod before seating himself.

"It's a mess."

"As I predicted." Garak nodded knowingly.

"I wouldn't say you predicted it."

"I did." Garak's smile was tight-lipped, but present.

Julian rolled his eyes upwards, mentally rechecking the contents of the letters they had exchanged over the years. While it was true that neither he nor Garak had seen each other in probably upwards of half a decade, they kept in constant contact, their weekly lunches supplanted by weekly letters.

When Garak had become the Liason for Cardassian Interests in the Federation, or whatever impossibly long title he held, the former tailor's thoughts on the matter were less than gracious, something which he felt was necessary to write out to near novel-length proportions. When Julian wrote back to say that it was really quite honor to have been chosen for a position with such an long-winded title, Garak only said "It's an easy way to get rid of me, _and_ the Federation, when the inevitable happens." Julian wasn't quite sure what he was talking about at the time, but he could make some very educated guesses now.

"I suppose you did predict it," conceded Julian.

"And, I imagine that the Cardassian ensign is in the brig."

"Naturally, but it doesn't seem to really be a deterrent like it use to be." Julian sighed. "Sometimes I feel like people use it as a get out of work free card. Start a fight a Quark's, and tomorrow you don't have muck about in the Jeffries tubes trying to integrate three systems of technology that stubbornly won't integrate."

"Many things changed with the departure of our dear Constable." Garak inclined his head, and looked away for a moment. Julian knew he was hiding something in that movement, and he knew Garak well enough to know that it didn't do any good guessing at what it meant. Of course, that didn't really stop Julian from doing it. Despite Garak's torture of the shapeshifter, and Odo's ever-dogged attempts to prove the Cardassian was a spy, the two had really become friends of a sort. It confused Julian, but he never commented on it. After all, some would say that he and Garak had an unusual friendship as well.

"Indeed," said Julian finally. It had been fifteen or so years, and there were things he missed, people he missed. He tried not to dwell on the disappearance of Sisko, the death of Jadzia, the exit of Odo, or the departure of the O'Briens. He especially tried not to dwell on the fact that Garak was no longer there. No, those were thoughts best left in the past.

Again, Garak smiled. "Well, seeing as the ensign isn't here as I had thought, I shall make my way to the brig."

Julian looked about the lab, first at the empty bed, and then at his monitor. "I'll join you."

"Worried?"

"Bored."

"The infirmary doesn't quite hold your attention the way it did in the war?"

"Garak," said Julian reprovingly.

"Sorry, Doctor, but you must admit that life hasn't really been what it was."

"Liar."

Garak smiled. "Well, shall we?"

Julian nodded, strode into the next room, had a word with a Bajoran nurse, and walked with Garak out onto the promenade. The changes it had undergone were slow, and Julian hardly noticed them. But with Garak by his side, his memories were too powerful, too overwhelming. Suddenly, the promenade seemed like another world. The black pillars had been modified as much was structurally allowable, and painted a yellow color. The lights had been changed to different colors, and banners of earthy reds, yellows, and oranges hung from the balconies.

Whether Garak noticed the changes or not was not clear in his demeanor, or the casual way he eyed every nook and cranny of the every corridor. This was just the way Garak always looked at everything; deceptively flippant, and always, _always _analyzing and memorizing. In his letters to Julian, he had said it was because of his training. His father, Enabrain Tain, would beat him if he failed to remember the minutest details of a scene. Julian felt that was the sort of conditioning one could never be rid of.

Finally, Garak spoke. "Still too cold, and the lights are still far too bright."

Julian laughed. To him, the promenade seemed like a much warmer place with all the colors replacing the dark of the Cardassian architecture, and the lights now spreading through the corridors where there had once only been shadows.

"I'm glad you find such joy in my discomfort," Garak grumbled, expertly navigating the Promenade as if it had never changed.

Chuckling, Julian said, "don't be silly, Garak. I just find joy in your company. It's good to speak to you in real time, without words getting in the way."

Garak stopped and eyed him, one ridge raised. Julian suddenly felt very naked, and there was a burning sensation in his cheeks as he blushed. He had forgotten how one look from Garak made him feel very young and very foolish. "The feeling is mutual," he said, and continued to walk on. "I trust the brig is in the same place."

"It is."

* * *

><p>The head of security was a Bajoran wearing a Federation uniform named Yuran. He had worked there for seven years, but Julian knew little more than that about him. Julian did note that he didn't seem to trying hard to conceal his sneer upon seeing Garak.<p>

"Aren't you supposed to salute, or something?" Garak asked the man.

"That's a _human_ tradition," the Security Chief said pointedly. Julian wondered if he should have warned Garak about Yuran.

Garak pulled a face. "Here I thought joining the Federation was all about endeavoring to be human."

Julian rolled his eyes. He hadn't really thought about it at the time, but really, appointing Garak as Liason for Cardassia wasn't a terribly good idea. Even during his exile, he had been vocal about his distaste for things he called "implicit Federation goals of homogenization" and the "hypocrisy of neoliberalism". Sometimes Julian thought he sounded exactly like Eddington, something he liked to bring up if only to poke fun. The irony of it was simply too delicious. After all, Eddington hated Cardassians. In response though, Garak just smiled and said, "he had it exactly right."

Julian hated that despite his genetically enhanced intelligence, Garak's peculiar way of thinking could still simply run circles around him.

"Those uniforms really don't do much for Cardassassian skin color," Garak sniffed disapprovingly as he walked in.

Julian rolled his eyes. Yet again, the old, familiar, broken-record Garak struck again.

"Yet there you," Garak continued, "in a Star Fleet uniform, and despite the atrocious color, you're lucky not to be stripped of it."

The former Glinn didn't answer.

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yes," the imprisoned Cardassian ground out.

"Good, because I haven't a clue who you are."

Julian didn't know where Garak was going with this, but he kept out of it. He shifted from one foot to the other, failing to mask his confusion.

"But it doesn't matter," continued Garak. "You're just the nobody they needed."

"I was a Glinn."

Garak took a PADD out of his pocket, and scanned it. "And now you're an ensign. Ensign Patak Kran, if I'm not mistaken. You were being detained for failing to shoot Cardassian civilians under Dominion orders… which you only happened to survive because of good timing on part of the Cardassian uprisings…. and for thirteen years you worked on the reconstruction of Cardassia as a civilian. Of course you're an ensign after thirteen years being out of the military. If you kept your mouth shut, and your head down you would have been a Lieutenant in short time. But now I'm here standing in front of you saying that you need to be nobody."

The Cardassian didn't answer.

"I will be back tomorrow. You will give me your answer then."

With that, Garak turned on his heel and left the brig, smoothly bypassing the still sneering Bajoran with Julian not far behind him.

"Wait, Garak," Julian said. "What just happened there?"

"Really, Doctor, you've known me for how long and you still don't know what I'm saying?"

"All I ever know about you is that I will never know anything."

Garak smiled. "Shall we go see Lieutenant Harper?"

Julian just nodded.

* * *

><p>Lieutenant Harper's quarters were smaller than Julian's by half, and painted the same yellow color as the promenade, with vases filled with plants from planets he couldn't even begin to guess placed artistically on the surface areas.<p>

In the middle of the cheery surroundings sat Lieutenant Harper, dark like a gathering storm cloud.

Garak smiled as he sat down across from the science officer, hooking his left ankle on his right knee. "I don't grovel. It's a cultural trait, I think. Maybe even racial," he started. Harper glanced over at the Julian who was standing awkwardly at the threshold, and Garak followed his eyes. "Don't mind the Doctor. He's just here to make sure nothing too unpleasant happens."

All the letters Garak wrote made more sense to Julian now. He had a hard time imagining it because he had never seen it, but now it was becoming all to clear. Garak smiled while he threatened. It threw Julian off balance, and he wasn't even the subject of his scrutiny. He couldn't imagine the affect it had on Harper.

Lieutenant Harper glared. "It doesn't matter if you do or don't, I'm pressing charges. He was in clear violation."

"Yes."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because, Lieutenant Harper, you have yet to learn a vital and important fact."

"And that is?"

"It doesn't matter what the truth is."

Julian couldn't help himself. He snorted.

Garak raised a ridge, but continued. "Relations are not well between Cardassia and the Federation."

Harper didn't answer.

"And the last thing we want is another war."

"You think a war will start because Cardassian punched me?"

"No. Because you forgot a Cardassian is not Federation no matter what uniform he or she wears."

"You're losing me here."

"Sir." Garak added, examining his fingernails.

"I'm sorry?"

"You're losing me, sir," Garak supplied, not looking up.

Harper's eyes trailed down Garak's neck, and across the collar of his burgundy ensemble.

Garak caught his eyes, rested his hand on his thigh, and sighed. "Though I question the logic in it, it seems that tradition has it that Ambassadors Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary in the Liaising of Cardassian/Federation Affairs are not afforded pips on the collar. Though, by that excruciatingly long title, I think we can both guess who outranks who here."

"Yes, sir."

"My point is this, Lieutenant. Looks are deceiving. Push this, and you'll lose Cardassia."

"What if I don't want it, sir?"

"You speak for everyone, do you?"

"I speak for enough."

Garak laughed, for a moment, and his face morphed into the one Julian was more than a little bit frightened of. He was still smiling, but his eyes were cold and dead. It sent shivers down Julian's spine. "You seem quite pale Lieutenant. I'm not sure you've quite recovered. I'm sure the Doctor would like to confine you to your quarters until he has a chance to reexamine you. Get some rest, and drink plenty of fluids."

With the smile still hovering on his face, Garak got up and strode towards the door. "Right, Doctor?"

Caught off guard, Julian could only stutter. "Yes, of course."


	2. Chapter 2

Julian was awoken by a medical emergency. In the few seconds it took for him to grab his medical kit, he knew was probably too late. Still, he hurriedly transported to the Brig in his fatigues, his collar half open, and rushed to see if there was a patient to save.

In the cell, the force field now down, was Ensign Patak Kran, his right hand bloodied, his throat horribly gashed, and his eyes staring wide open.

"What happened here?" Julian asked the security guard quickly, fruitlessly scanning the body with his tricoder.

"I don't know, he just…" The security guard, a slightly-built Bolian, trailed off, unable to speak.

Julian looked up. "Were you the officer on duty?"

Dumbly, he nodded. Julian blinked. Strike that, _she_ nodded. Sometimes it was difficult to tell with Bolians.

"Yes," she said.

"Well, let's see the security tapes then, shall we?" He stood up, and turned his back on the corpse.

She nodded and left the room. Julian tapped the com on his breast, "Bashir to Garak."

"Yes, Doctor?" His voice was low, and heavy with sleep.

"I think you had better come down to the brig."

* * *

><p>Garak shook his head, and he bent down to look at what was formerly known as Glinn Kran. "I suppose there is some dignity in this."<p>

"Garak," Julian said reprovingly. "This man has torn out his own throat."

"Security footage confirms this?"

Julian nodded grimly.

"I should like to see it, please."

The Bolian officer, which Julian had learned was named Balinar, showed them the footage just as Security Chief Yuran walked through the massive glass doors of the office.

Garak did not even look up. He just watched Patak Kran stare at his hands before placing one on his neck. Julian looked away as the Cardassian on the screen clawed his hand into his throat and struggled to pierce his skin. There was a strangled shout, and a loud thump, and the security camera trained on his limp body.

"Sir," Balinar said, her body snapping to attention.

"What's happened here?" Yuran demanded, his eyes hard.

Balinar shifted uneasily. "I don't know, sir."

Garak's eyes narrowed. "Suicide it seems."

Julian studied Garak's features carefully for a moment. He wasn't convinced of Garak's sincerity.

* * *

><p>The body of Patak Kran had been sent to infirmary for an autopsy, and Julian dragged his feet across the promenade as he made his way to join it. His mind, tired from lack of sleep, tried to work with the details he had just witnessed.<p>

He kept hearing Garak's voice telling the former Glinn that he expected an answer this morning. Was this Kran's answer?

Julian couldn't be sure. Cardassians always seemed to talk in subtitles, and Julian was damned if he could read them.

* * *

><p>Captain Kira was changed, and nothing reminded her of it more than when she saw people from her past. Her short hair, a necessity in the war, was now long and braided at the nape of her neck, and she was slightly heavier than she used to be. Those, though, were just the superficial details that people brought up to be polite. The Kira Nerys they knew was not the same as the one during the Caradassian Occupation, and she certainly not the same as the on during the Dominion War. Sometimes when people looked at her, she could see in their eyes a hint of doubt, like they were being acquainted with a stranger with a familiar face.<p>

She missed Odo constantly, and she found herself staring out at the wormhole from the large window of her office. It was as if she couldn't be whole without him, that she would never be Kira Nerys as she once was. She would still be strong, of course, that would never change, but…

Now she was Captain Kira, the successor to far too short-lived Sisko dynasty, and she struggled with it. Command came naturally to her, but she didn't like it. Though she never would have admitted it before, she preferred being second-in-line. It was far easier to question, she found, than it was to be questioned.

So it was, then, that whenever she had a quiet moment, she would stare out at the wormhole and wonder if Sisko would return. If Odo would return. And that was where thoughts had ultimately drifted when her door chimed.

"Come," she said, turning expectantly.

"I believe a rather belated congratulations are in order on your promotion, Captain," said her visitor, the ever present mocking smiling playing on his lips.

"You're only five years late, Mr. Garak."

"Well, better late than never, as the humans say."

"Speaking of which, I was expecting to see you in my office the moment you arrived."

"I felt," Garak paused, "that the circumstances were a bit more pressing than idle chit-chat."

Kira nodded and sat down, and grabbed Sisko's baseball off of the desk. "And isn't it convenient that those circumstances worked themselves out? Lieutenant Harper can't press charges now."

"Indeed, I thought so as well, but there is something quite troubling about Kran's death."

She threw the ball in the air, and caught it. "Aside from the fact he's dead?"

"Yes." Garak looked as if he was going to continue, but then he stopped. "You know Commander, I really had expected you to be more mellowed, but you are still just as suspicious as ever."

"Only with you Garak."

"Why shouldn't you be? I only risked my life to save yours."

"You also tortured Odo."

Garak raised his hands placatingly. "Perhaps a clean slate is required."

Kira threw the ball in the air again. "Perhaps."

"I would like to continue the investigation."

"Security Chief Yuran will do it." She set the ball down and eyed him carefully. "It's a suicide, Garak."

"Captain, I do not think his death is the answer to our problems. It is a reprieve at best."

"Now who's suspicious?"

"I was born suspicious." Garak smiled.

Kira raised her eyebrows. He would have no argument there. "Well, who am I to stand in the way of the Cardassian Liason?"

"I do outrank you in this respect."

"Yes…" Kira stood up and planted her arms on the desk, leaned over and looked at a Garak. "But I request a daily report, and that is not outside my jurisdiction."

"If you wish."

* * *

><p>Julian knew very little about Cardassian physiology, but he was relatively certain that it would near impossible to pierce that scaly skin with bare hands, but who was he to question sheer willpower?<p>

Experimentally, he put his own hand up to his throat, and shuddered at how tender and vulnerable it felt. He wondered if he would ever find the need to. Then he shuddered again.

The autopsy revealed little he didn't know. The Cardassian had died of blood loss, obviously due to blunt force trauma on his neck. There were no other external bruises, and his body seemed perfectly healthy by any measure.

Sighing, he ran the neural scans, with his hopes rather low. The Cardassians, even since joining the Federation, had been reluctant in sharing their biological knowledge, thus making it somewhat difficult to treat Cardassians. In the end he could find nothing out of the ordinary. Well, aside from the fact he was suddenly dead when he had been perfectly alive.

"I've just had the most fascinating chat with the Captain," a voice came in, interrupting as Julian checked over all the autopsy data yet again. He looked up to see Garak, his hand resting on the desk. Julian jerked in surprised.

"No one would ever believe you're a spy," Julian joked when he realized it was Garak, "what with how you blunder in here all noisily. I heard you a mile away."

Garak smiled, and followed Bashir into the autopsy room. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"What did Captain Kira have to say?"

"That we should count this as a blessing."

Julian raised his eyebrows.

"But I don't think that is everything." Garak continued. "I think she finds this death troubling as well."

Julian stopped and glanced at Garak, trying to discern if there was truth in his words, but Garak's face was just as unreadable as it had always been.

Taking a deep breath, Julian handed Garak the medical PADD. "Well, his death is ordinary enough. Blood loss… obviously."

"I don't believe this is ordinary at all."

"Well, of course. He ripped out his own throat."

Garak shook his head, and walked over to the body of Patak Kran. "As Larnorius saw the sun come up and never go down again, he tore at his throat to water the desperate lands, and thus, from blood, Caradassia arose."

"What is that?"

"Ancient scripture of sorts. Most of what we thought was lost as been… resurfacing."

"Who is Larnorius?" Julian frowned. "That doesn't sound like a Cardassian name."

"It was Hebitian." Garak took his eyes off of the bloody gash at Kran's throat. "It comes from the time of the great climate change, when Cardassia as you know it arose."

"Do you think he was mimicking the god's death? Why would he do that?"

Garak returned his gaze to the corpse. He didn't answer.


	3. Chapter 3

So, it's my intent to have a new chapter up every week. Sadly, family/friend crises, coupled with work crises made it impossible to update. Boo. Hopefully, I will resume my normal schedule next week.

* * *

><p>Julian didn't pretend to understand Cardassian society, let alone a tale which sounded like it originated in the Klingon Empire. He wondered at what Garak had quoted, trying to figure out its meaning. The climate change that spelled Cardassia's imperialism was not solved, so what was the meaning behind a myth about watering the lands?<p>

He pondered on it for a day before he was forced to ask Garak over lunch.

"Isn't it obvious?" asked Garak, carefully unfolding his napkin.

"If this a joke about my enhancements…" Julian warned.

"No, it's just that, I hadn't realized it was difficult to understand." Garak spread his hands. "Lanorius' blood didn't help the land. Instead it created modern Cardassia. It is a remnant myth from some of the very first dissenters. I think the point of the story was to say we weren't becoming very good people."

"Then why…" Julian paused. "Do you think separatists are using the Oralian Way to drum up support?"

Garak raised his ridges, and picked up his glass. "If that were the case, the real question we should be asking, which I believe we were asking, is why is Patak Kran dead?"

* * *

><p>Patak Kran had very few friends aboard Deep Space Nine, but Garak already knew that before had arrived. Cardassians who joined Star Fleet were rare, and ones assigned to the area they had once conquered were even more rare. Patak Kran's presence on Deep Space Nine made him sort of wonder at Federation naivity, or rather, Federation stupidity. Though, Garak supposed that probably didn't matter very much. It was going to happen anyway. Some things, after all, were inevitable.<p>

Garak kept his face impassive as he made his way down to what he thought may be Engineering, a concept that was somewhat beyond him. Cardassians didn't have an Engineering the way Federation did. It was always considered to be strategically impractical to centralize something that important, which was ironically different from ow they organized their government. Perhaps that was how they fell so quickly, he mused.

As Garak worked his way down the corridors to his final destination, he realized that despite the Bajoran, Federation, and Cardassian technologies working against one another, it was Cardassian design that still held the most power. Engineering, it turned out, was a small room where the large engines that kept the station in orbit were. It had the feeling of a cramped office of an underappreciated and over worked civil service officer.

"Liason," he was greeted immediately by a tall human who was handsome in all the ways Chief O'Brien definitely was not, and he smiled affably as he thrust out his hand. Garak shook it, but felt immediately put off by the man's friendliness. At least with O'Brien Garak knew were he stood, and Garak knew better than anybody that a smile was a very effective weapon. "The name's Snyder. Probably already knew that though, didn't you?"

"I had been reliably informed of that fact, yes."

"Well, it's nasty business with Ensign Kran, I can tell you that."

"Indeed. What can you tell me about him?"

"Not much to say, really." Chief Snyder shrugged. "Showed up to his shifts on time, every time. Sometimes, I'd catch him kicking at panels and cursing, but that's something even the best of us have to do. It is really hard keeping this station in order."

"And what can you tell me about Lieutenant Harper?"

Snyder furrowed his brows. "You don't think he…"

Raising his hands, Garak interrupted him. "The other matter, despite Ensign Kran's unfortunate death, is still open."

Looking visible relieved, Snyder smiled. "Well, he's pretty well liked. Excellent engineer. Sometimes I think he knows this place better than I do, but that wouldn't surprise me. He started as an Ensign under O'Brien."

"And the nature of his argument with the ensign?"

"Well, you see, that's the thing. I don't know. Kran is a Cardassian, so he gets these systems were trying to integrate better than anyone, but he kept to himself. Him and Harper were the best I had, but I don't think they even spoke more than two words to each other enough to know that. Don't know what I'm going to do without Kran. It's been over two decades, and we still have more workload than we can manage, even with a full compliment."

"Your concern is touching," Garak said, realizing his sincerity sounded sarcastic at best. "Do you have any other Cardassians under your charge?"

Garak knew the answer, but he asked anyway.

"No, but sometimes he would get a meal with Lieutenant Blet."

Garak narrowed his eyes. He had not come across this name in his research. "Blet?"

"Chief Science Officer on the Defiant."

Garak nodded.

* * *

><p>"I don't understand Garak, why are you asking me?" Julian asked, not looking away from the test tube he had been studying when Garak walked in.<p>

"Well, what with your previous infatuation with the last science officer, I thought it best to assume it a pattern." Garak shrugged

"Really?" He set down the test tube and leveled his gaze at Garak. "You think that's where my romantic inclinations lie? Solely with science officers? Do you even remember Leeta?"

"I remember her breasts."

"Garak," Julian said reprovingly, trying not to smile. "That's unfair. She's the first wife of Fereginar."

"I'm not slighting her breasts, Doctor. They may not be to my taste, but they did very well for her."

Julian laughed, if only because he hoped Garak didn't mean it. "Well, that aside, I don't know Lieutenant Blet very well. It has been a long time since I've served on board the Defiant."

"I always thought it a strategically poor choice for the Federation to put their best doctor on the ship most likely to go into battle and then perish."

"Oh, you were worried about me then." Julian gave a mock grin. "I don't know what to say."

"Naturally, I was. I'm a creature of habit, and I had grown very accustomed to our lunches and your bad taste in literature."

Julian just smiled, and shook his head. "I find that I can take very little solace in being just a habit."

Garak spread his hands. "I did say you were the best doctor they had."

"Which is suspiciously complementary of you."

"I've found that I've had to learn more human customs in order to get by."

"Yes, but flattery is not something you're deficient at."

"I'm trying something more human… what was it called? Ah yes, sincerity."

"Really?" Julian said skeptically.

"Yes. And I must admit, it is a very effective tool."

Julian could do nothing but laugh. "It is bizarre how you never seem to change."

"Indeed. Well, as stimulating as this conversation is, I regret that I have to search for some more valuable sources.

"Alright, Garak. Perhaps, when you have time, you wouldn't mind grabbing a drink at Quark's?"

"Why Doctor, I'd be delighted."

Julian watched Garak leave, wondering why he had even bothered to come and talk to him at all, but not really minding the distraction at all.

* * *

><p>"Blet?" asked Captin Kira, her voice cool with a familiar steel. "Why did you need to talk to him?"<p>

"He was in contact with Kran."

"I can't help but notice, Liason," she said, gesturing at the PADD with his report, "that you are treating a suicide like a murder case."

"I'm Cardassian. I'm naturally suspicious of the facts."

"Well, Blet comes back tomorrow, and I believe," she consulted her computer at her desk, "he has shore leave. I wouldn't expect him to stick around. He usually goes to Cardassia the second his feet touch the station."

"What are your opinions of him?"

"None."

"Come now Captain, you know I don't believe that. He's your Chief Science Officer on your patrolling flagship. You put him there, so you must have an opinion."

"I didn't. I was told to put him there."

"Then surely you have an opinion about that?"

Kira gripped the table, strain clear in the way her fingers paled. "Paniles Blet worked a under a war criminal."

Nodding knowingly, Garak said, "Ah, and as a Bajoran, you think that makes him a war criminal as well."

"As a citizen of the Federation, it makes him a war criminal," Kira countered.

"Not necessarily. The law works in mysterious ways."

The silence that lay between them was pregnant with words they had heard a thousand times before. Finally, Kira leaned back in her chair and spoke. "No. I don't talk to him. He doesn't talk to me. And as far as I'm concerned, that is the best working relationship we can have."

"Indeed. Well, I won't waste anymore of your time, Captain."

"What are you going to do about Blet?"

Garak just smiled. "We'll see."


End file.
